


Helping Hand

by orphan_account



Series: Mandalorian storytime! [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Gen, Look I have so much in my brain and it's making me lose sleep i need it out, i have way more of this story in my mind, so i hopped on the mando train
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:07:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21891892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: If he'd had it his way, they wouldn’t be stopping on this planet. They would have continued on a few clicks and went someone slightly more remote. But, these days, things don’t always go according to plan, and this was an urgently needed stop for fuel and supplies. And money. He needed that too.Things shouldn't go too awry, right? Well...
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Character
Series: Mandalorian storytime! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1578163
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	1. Help Wanted

If he'd had it his way, they wouldn’t be stopping on this planet. They would have continued on a few clicks and went someone slightly more remote. But, these days, things don’t always go according to plan, and this was an urgently needed stop for fuel and supplies. And money. He needed that too. 

The planet, a small, warm, almost tropical planet, called Sirilia, was just a little too populated for his tastes. With many large, sprawling cities, cruel crime bosses, and more than a few greedy bounty hunters, he already considered this to be a mistake. With all these factors in mind, he picked the smallest township to land in, and prayed that there wouldn’t be too much trouble. 

First things first, food for the Kid. There was a small tavern-like restaurant in the center of town, called The Burbling Bundak, which seemed lowkey enough not to attract much attention his way. 

The Mandalorian walked through the entryway, Child in a sling on his back, and looked around for an empty table. He had plenty of options. 

He selected a table in the far back corner, giving him a good vantage point of every other person in the room. Mando reached behind himself to the sling, and lifted the little green creature out of it. 

“Are you hungry, womp rat?” he asked the Kid, who cooed and squealed and he was placed on a stool at the table. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

A large, grey-skinned woman with four dark eyes approached their table, holding a notepad in 2 of her four her hands. The other two rested on her hips.

“What can I get for you today, cira?”, she inquired in a deep, sharp accented rumble. 

“Bone broth for the kid,” Mando said lowly. “Nothing for me.” He handed her a credit. 

She smiled, her sharp, yellow teeth showing. “Thank you, cira. I’ll have it out for you in a moment, yes?” she spoke, sauntering away.

The Mandalorian sighed and looked towards the Kid, who had a hand in his mouth. The Kid looked back at him and squealed, prompting the Mandalorian to reached over and pat him on the head. “Just here for supplies and fuel, Ad’ika. And some credits. Then we’ll be out of here.” The Child chirped in response, and continued chewing on his own hand. 

The waitress returned with a large bowl of broth, placing it in front of the Child, who cooed and picked up the bowl, slurping it down. She watched with mild amusement before turning to the Mandalorian. 

“You’re a bounty hunter, aren’t you, cira?” she said, not really asking. He didn’t answer. “Many bounty hunters come through, but they don’t stay long. Not much work, you see, cira.” she gestured to the lack of people in the tavern. 

He looked behind her to see for himself, and sure enough, there were hardly any patrons. Only five other than himself. Two Rodians sitting at a booth eating their meals, a cloaked figure with a drink in hand alone at a table, and what appeared to be a Twi’lek and a human man on a date, though he doubted it was really a date. This was a crime planet after all, and it was known for its more unsavory businesses. He looked back at the grey woman in front of him. 

“So, there’s no bounties here then?” he asked gruffly. That’s a problem. He needed credits. 

“Well,” the woman began. “There is a person who is always here waiting for bounty hunters, like yourself, cira.” she grinned, and vaguely gestured at the cloaked figure alone at a table. “Always here, always waiting. But no one ever takes the job, no.” she spoke lowly. “If you’re desperate, maybe you’ll take it, hmm?” she turned and stalked away back to the bar. 

Mando grunted turned to the Kid, who was finishing his soup and licking the inside of the bowl. He felt a smile tug at his face under the helmet. “I guess we’ll take it, huh?” he muttered, scooping up the whining Child. He looked over to the cloaked figure, who seemed to be gazing in his direction, though it was hard to tell with their hood covering their face. Resigned to this being his only option, he approached. 

The cloaked figure didn’t look up when Mando sat down. 

“Bounty hunter?” came a light, lilted voice from under the hood, face still obscured. “And a Mandalorian from the looks of it. We don’t see many of you in these parts.” the voice seemed… amused? Amazed? A mix of the two? The head lifted up.

Under the hood was a younger woman, with pulled back orange hair and pale, almost blue-ish skin. She had large teal spots along her cheekbones and above her eyes, and smaller freckle-like ones peppered across her face, and big, teal eyes which were slightly further apart than average. She had long, pointed ears that angled down. She had dark lip makeup on her lips, which were curled into a polite smile. 

“What’s the job?” Mando asked, cutting to the chase. The Kid next to him gurgled as if he was reaffirming the question. 

She glanced over to the Kid for a moment, and then back to the Mandalorian in front of her. She cleared her throat. “Someone stole something from me. Something I would really like to get back. I don’t need anyone killed… but if it's necessary, I won’t lose any sleep.” she explained. 

He tilted his helmet at her, as if to say “more details please”. She let out a breath and downed the rest of her drink.

“It’s my hand.” she lifted her wrist, which until the point had been hidden. Her arm ended at her wrist, where a metal inset plate sat, with the hand obviously missing. “I can’t get a replacement; it was made specifically for me. Even if I could, I couldn’t afford it.” she dropped her arm to the table with a thunk. “The guy who stole it’s name is Tiberius Manocha. He’s a big local scrap dealer. He steals people’s stuff, obviously.” she huffed, clearly miffed, and rested her chin on her remaining fist. 

He was silent for a moment, processing the information. Tiberius Manocha. He’d heard of the guy. It might be more trouble than it’s worth, he realized. But, like the waitress had said, if you’re desperate. 

“How much?” 

She cringed at the question, and lifted a pouch out of her pocket, gently setting in on the table in front of him. She slid it towards him.

Mando took the pouch and opened it. He stared incredulously inside. 

“Are you serious?” he pushed the pouch back to her before grabbing the Kid and standing up. “Good luck.” 

Just as he was about to walk away, she reached out and grabbed his wrist. He froze stock still in place, and she loosened her grip. The small sliver of skin showing between his gloved hand and sleeve tingled like he’d been electrocuted.

She spoke slowly, quietly. “Please.” her head turned in his direction. “It’s all I have. If I don’t get it back, I can’t go back to work. I’ll die in the streets.” She let go on his wrist, and his arm fell slowly. 

The Kid looked up at his face inquisitively, cooing. The Mandalorian stared forward.

‘I must be absolutely out of my mind’, he thought, before turning around and sliding back down into his seat. He looked directly into her face from behind his helmet. She seemed… surprised. Like she hadn’t expected him to come back. But she held a knowing look in her eyes. 

“Where is Manocha?” he grumbled.

A slight smile came to her face, and she relayed the details. “He’s usually out in Bagrop, in the abandoned spice mines. It’s where he hides his valuables before he sells them. I’ve tried going out myself, but without both hands or any weapons, I couldn’t get very far.” she clicked her tongue. She looked down at the pouch in front of her, then back at Mando. 

“Tell you what:” she opened the pouch and reached inside, pulling out some credit and laying them on the table. “I’ll give you half now to cover any expenses or fuel or whatever you need. But you better bring my hand back in one piece, or I'll… Do something.” she finished weakly, her poor threat not scaring him even slightly. He gathered the credits and gathered the Kid, who giggled and squirmed in his arms. 

“Where should we meet?” he grunted.

She looked up in thought, ‘hmm’-ing to herself. “Knoel’s Mechanics, just down the road. Tomorrow night at sundown.” she stood from her chair, grabbing the pouch of remaining credits and stuffing it back into her cloak pocket. “And it the stories about Mandalorians are true, it shouldn’t take you too long.” she smiled suddenly and laughed to herself.

“I almost forgot, my names Kiopa. Kiopa O’Ghu’ul.” she didn’t put out her hand to shake. He didn’t either. Neither did he offer his own name.

“Some advice for you, Kiopa.” he tilted his head in the direction of the Rodian’s, who were watching them wordlessly. “Don’t give your full name to every person you meet. It’ll make you that much easier to find.” 

And with that, he brushed past her and headed for the door. 

She watched him round the corner and disappear outside. She cocked her head to the side, one eyebrow lifting in wonder. 

“What strange advice.” she said to herself, ignorant of the two Rodian’s nodding to each other and departing from their table. 

____

Mando walked back to the Razor Crest, Kid in hand, credits for fuel and supplies in his pocket. It wasn’t much but it would be enough for the bare minimum. 

As he climbed into his ship and placed the Kid down, her wondered out loud.

“What would Ghu’ul be doing this far from Terratin? Seems out of the way.” he posited to the Child, who just looked up at him with a far off, distracted look in his big dark eyes, before toddling off. 

Mando sighed.  
It was odd these days to see a Ghu’ul. They didn’t get off planet much since the Terrat takeover a few hundred years ago. A shame, really. At one point they were hailed as the galaxies best peacemaker’s and negotiators. Others even brought them in for representation at the Galactic Senate, though that hasn’t been done in a very long time, even so before the Senate collapsed. He understood now how by just a touch of her hand, he’d been persuaded to take her job. By touching their skin, you could feel what they felt, knew what they thought, and vice versa. There was no hiding things from a Ghu’ul. The Ghu’ul race had potent empathic and sympathic abilities, which is what made them so successful at peacekeeping. They didn’t fight wars, they stopped them. Truly, a shame they weren’t around much, especially in these times. 

The Mandalorian took his time getting all the equipment he’d need ready to go, even taking some time to polish his Beskar armor. It wouldn’t be a hard job. He’d even been given free reign to kill anyone who got in his way. Shouldn’t take long.

He approached the outskirts of town, alone. The Child, who’d clinged to his legs as he tried to walk off the ship, was safely hidden in the cargo hold on his ship, with plenty of shiny things to play with and freeze-dried food to snack on until Mando got back. 

He slipped down behind a small hill and looked out at the entrance of the old mine with his binoculars. There was just one guard, an older man holding an even older blaster, and almost no real armor on. 

“Perfect.” Mando whispered to himself, lifting his rifle and aiming at the man. Within seconds, he was down, laying limply on the ground.

Mando stood up and quickly, quietly, made his way to the mine. Peering inside, he could see that it wasn’t especially well lit, but it was enough to see that there were no more guard down this corridor. He snuck through, moving fluidly through the long hall, rifle in hand. He reached the end of one tunnel which split off into two, where two short, stubby guards stood in front of a door. 

They spoke to each other in hushed, staggered phrases that he didn’t understand. They both laughed, and one paused and said something else, and they erupted in laughter again. 

Mando took this opportunity to cause a distraction. He tossed a small spark detonator down the tunnel he came from, and ducked into the one without guards. 

The explosive went off, causing a great flash of light and a nice, loud sound. The two guards halted in their comradery and ran off to find the source of the explosion.

With the two guards gone, Mando slid up to the door and walked right in. 

‘Poor security’, he thought.  
Inside the room was a man sitting at a desk, snoozing lazily. He was surrounded by piles of junk, scrap metal and parts, and a collection of bloodied, busted stormtrooper helmets. Mando approached the man quietly, knowing he’d need him to be alive to tell him where Kiopa’s hand was.

The man startled awake just as Mando was upon him, whipping out a blaster pistol, aiming it at Mando’s head. 

“So,” the large man chuckled, “someone’s come to take from Tiberius Manocha? That’s going to be the last mistake you’ll ever make, my Mandalorian friend.”

He fired the pistol, not expecting Mando to duck in perfect timing, and swing the back end of his rifle at the mans face, hitting him squarely in the jaw and knocking him down. With a groan, Manocha held his bleeding jaw in his hands, scrambling away from the looming figure before him.

“Where’s the hand?” Mando demanded.

Manocha sputtered and drooled on himself, shaking in terror. 

Mando aimed the rifle next to Manocha’s head and fired a warning shot. Manocha squealed like a pig and panted, sweat gathering on his big brows. 

“Where is it?” he asked again, aggressively pointing the rifle barrel tip in Manocha’s face. 

“Th-the hand? Uh… Uh.. It’s.. um…” the man scrambled to his feet, a dark stain growing on his pants as he pissed himself in fear. He reached shakily over to a cabinet next to his desk, pointing inside the top drawer. “I-it’s in there. Please! Please don’t kill me, I’m beggin’ you!” he sobbed.

The Mandalorian, rifle still pointed at the man in front of him, slowly approached the cabinet. He nudge Manocha with the tip of the gun barrel. 

“Open it.” 

Manocha wrapped his large fingers around the drawer handle and slowly pulled out, other hand up by his head in order to keep the trigger-happy Mandalorian at ease. He reached inside with one hand and pulled out a bag with something heavy inside. He put it down on the desk and open the bag. Inside, there was a hand, made of shiny durasteel, with intricate joints crafted with care, and vein-like blue and red wires twisted around the base of the wrist, meeting with thick metal disk shape. On the side of the disk, there was a glowing light, blinking red, and next to it appeared to be a thin bar of light, like an indicator of battery life. It was almost out. 

Mando grabbed the back and the hand, closing it up and strapping it to his gun holster. 

“Are… are you gonna let me live?” Manocha asked hopefully. 

“Sure, why not.” The Mandalorian turned to leave the room, rifle in hand. 

Manocha slowly reached over to his dropped pistol, preparing to shoot the Mandalorian in the back. Without so much as fully getting his hand on the gun, however, Mando spun around and shot Manocha is the hand, destroying both the pistol, and Manocha’s left hand. He screamed bloody murder, cursing in pain and crying, fat tears streaming down his red face. He squirmed and rolled around in a puddle of his own blood and groaned and gurgled, and passed out from shock.

Mando, satisfied with this, turned to leave for real. 

Exiting the mine was fairly easy. The two guards had found no threat in the hall where the bomb had gone off, so they searched the front of the mine, where they found their fellow guard dead. They saw the Mandalorian, and instantly dropped their weapons and took off running into the desert. He didn’t bother to kill them, knowing they wouldn’t be any trouble to him. He sauntered back to town, hand in… well, hand. 

The mechanic shop Kiopa had instructed him to meet her at was closed, but the door was unlocked, and she was nowhere to be seen. He cautiously entered the building, rifle still in hand.

He heard a gasp and silent, pained groaning. He lifted his rifle and pointed it in the direction of the sound. 

He was met with the sight of Kiopa, sitting on the ground under a table, feet tied, wrists bound behind her back, a rag shoved in her mouth, and a massive black eye. She looked panicked, wide eyed, silently begging him to put down the rifle. 

He lowered it, approaching her warily. She shook, tears burning her eyes as he pulled the rag from her mouth.

Before he could ask any questions, she started speaking in a rushed, hushed tone.

“Those two Rodians. From the tavern. I think they’re after you or something.” she flexed her jaw, in pain from having the rag shoved in her mouth.

He responds quietly, calmly, “Where are they?”.

She looks over to the room behind the table she’s under, signalling with her eyes.  
He nods, taking out a knife and cutting the ties on her wrists, leaving the knife for her to undo the rest of her bindings. She weakly smiled, gratitude flowing from her hand to the sliver of exposed skin on his wrist. 

He rose up, crouched to hide from the Rodians’ line of sight, and made his way to the door. 

He peeked over the edge of the window, showing into the room where the assailants waited. Instead of both, he only saw one of them, waiting with a blaster. He huffed, hoping the other Rodian was also there somewhere, and aimed his gun. 

The shot shattered the glass of the window, hitting the green creature in the shoulder.  
With a screech of pain, he fell to the ground. Mando, unsure if the other was hiding or not, carefully opened the door to the room and slipped in. 

He saw the Rodian he’d shot, lying on the ground, bleeding out slowly. Near the body was a second body, though not Rodian. It was a female humanoid creature with a bleeding hole in her forehead. 

‘Shopkeeper,’ he thought darkly. 

No sign of the second Rodian though. He crept around to the other end of the room, checking all the nooks and crannies, but seeing nothing. 

Then, an ear piercing shriek sounded out in the other room. 

The second Rodian, who had been hiding in the bathroom, waiting to catch the Mandalorian off guard, had instead found Kiopa, weilding a knife. She saw him, and, in a panic, swung at him. She’d sliced his arm open, blood pouring out quickly. The Rodian screamed and swung his own rifle at her knees, knocking them out from beneath her. She toppled to the ground, slamming her elbows into the hard floor, and knocking her head back into a table. The knife skittered across the floor, away from her.

She groaned in pain, looking around wildly to see where the knife had gone. The Rodian wasted no time, and bashed her in the face with the back end of the rifle, giving her another black eye, and knocking her down, eyes closing.

As she hit the floor, the Mandalorian entered the room, gun trained on the Rodian, who was pointing his rifle at him, and another gun coming from a pack on his back pointing at Kiopa. 

He spoke in his native tongue. 

“You want your bounty money, yes? You don’t want me to kill the girl? Take me to your ship. Give me the asset, Mando.”  
The Mandalorian, seeing how this would go and not wanting an innocent woman to die, lowered his rifle. He’d think of a way out, but for now, he’d play it cool.

The Rodian chuckled lowly, the gun aimed at Kiopa lowering. He started to walk towards the Mandalorian, when he yelped in pain. The Rodian fired his rifle into the ceiling in shock, and fell on the ground twitching violently. 

Behind him, hyperventilating, shaking, was Kiopa, knife in hand. The Rodian had a massive gash in the back of his head, where she had stabbed him with enough force to bring him down. She clutched the knife, quivering, before looking up at the Mandalorian. She stared into his helmet, where his eyes would be, and collapsed, out like a light. The knife clattered to the floor and she lay in a puddle of blood next to the Rodian’s body. 

Mando, not knowing what else to do, scooped up the girl and dragged her off to his ship. It was no longer safe her, and he refused to let her die, especially not after she’d just helped him. 

Upon entering the Razor Crest he saw the Kid, out of the cargo hold, playing with bits of a broken blaster on the ground. 

“Hey, put that down.” grunted Mando, shoving parts off a table. He lowered Kiopa onto it gently, assessing the damage. 

Aside from both eyes being heavily bruised, her wrists were raw from the rope they’d been tied with, and her knees were black and blue. He assumed there was more damage under her clothes, but she wasn’t bleeding, so he wasn’t going to check, wanting to preserve her modesty. 

He pulled the bag off of his gun holster, feeling the heavy weight of the durasteel hand inside. He slowly pulled it out, examining it’s intricate details. Curiously, he removed one of his gloves.

The metal disk that attached to the other on her wrist seemed to pull towards her arm, almost magnetically. He brought it close, letting it clip itself back into place. The vein-like red and blue wires stretched out and settled into place. The battery life indicator turned off, and the single light remained. 

Cautiously, he placed an uncovered finger on the palm of the steel hand. 

Instantaneously, he was filled with great feelings of fear, exhaustion… and gratitude. 

Curious.


	2. Hot Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Mando's 'guest' wakes up, he finds unexpected trouble...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one asked, but there was more in my brain. Enjoy.

In his defense, flying to Sirilia’s third moon didn’t sound too horrible of an idea. Mando knew that he couldn’t stay on-planet, due to the attention he unintentionally brought upon himself. He also knew that flying to a completely new planet far from Sirilia was out of the question. He still had Kiopa onboard, and was still waiting for her to wake up fully, and he wasn’t about to kidnap a woman for his own convenience. So, third moon it was. 

The only issue, he found, was that there was nowhere to get more supplies should they need them, and he had to keep the ship on so they wouldn’t freeze to death. So, he was really banking on her waking up soon. 

The Kid climbed off of the Mandalorian’s lap and toddled to the door of the cockpit. His little legs were growing restless from sitting for so long, and he was a bit curious about the woman lying unconscious in the cargo hold. He looked back at the Mandalorian, who was snoozing quietly at the wheel of the ship, unaware of anything in the waking world, and nodded to himself, hopping down the ladder to the cargo hold. 

The woman, Kiopa, was still laying on the table, sleeping as peacefully as a person with a concussion can sleep. The Child waddled over to the sleeping form, gazing up at her, and her shiny, metal hand that hung over the edge. The shimmer of the durasteel in the lights reminded him of the little metal ball that the Mandalorian gave him to play with, and suddenly he wanted to get his little claws on her hand.

He hoisted himself up onto the table, sitting just next to her head, and reached out towards her hand. The second her cool metallic fingers met his tiny hand, he whimpered. He didn’t understand why, but he was suddenly filled with some very confusing, upsetting emotions. He whimpered again, louder this time, his large, dark eyes filling with tears. He didn’t like her hand very much. He huffed and sniffed, taking in several shallow, tiny breathes, before letting out a blood curdling wail. 

The Mandalorian shot straight up in his seat, nearly falling out onto the floor. He scrambled to his feet, searching the room for any sign of the Kid. 

‘Where is he? I can hear him crying. Did she wake up? Is she hurting him?’ his mind ran wild with awful scenarios as her rushed down the latter to the cargo hold.

His head turned to the table, where the kid had a death grip on one of Kiopa’s fingers, sobbing. The Mandalorian jogged over to him, lifting him up off the table.

“Hey, Kid, calm down, it’s alright.” he soothed. Looking down at the woman on the table, he could see that she was shifting a bit in her sleep. He turned his head towards the Child. “What did I say about messing with strangers?” he asked firmly, but with no real anger. The Kid hiccuped in response. 

“Hopefully she’ll get up soon, or we’ll never make it off this moon.” 

____

As she dipped in and out of sleep and reality, one thing became abundantly clear. She was NOT back at the hostel where she’d been staying. Whatever it was she way laying on was most certainly NOT a bed, and she most definitely could NOT hear the usual sounds of her other bunkmates flitting about, getting ready to go to work at the local clubs. She was perplexed.

This, however, took a backseat to the echoing shriek of a child bouncing around in her head like a stray laser blast. It pierced her mind and ripped her from whatever kind of dream she’d been having, and she found it increasingly hard to keep her eyes closed. 

As she stirred on her bed (bench? table? she was unsure), she heard a voice, deep and static-filled, warbling out of a vocoder. And suddenly, without warning, it all came rushing back.

She flew up from her lying position on the table with a start, frantically looking about. 

“Where am I?!” she flailed, scrambling for some kind of cover, the sound of the Rodian’s rifle blaster still pounding in her head. 

Her head. 

Oh god, her head. She groaned painfully, clutching her head, curling her knees up to her chest, trying to block out all light.

“It’s alright,” came a voice from next to her, the same deep vocoded one from before. “You’re safe. Those other guys are dead.” it spoke so surely, quietly, calmly. She loosened the grip she had on her head.

Her eyes peered out from under her hands, landing on the black suited, Beskar clad figure of the Mandalorian. She let out a sigh that she didn’t even know she was holding.

She whispered, “It’s you.” before lowering her legs back down to the table. A horrified look of realization flashed across her face. “Oh my god, I never paid you the rest of the credits! Please, if I give you the rest, will you let me go? They should be in the pouch in the pocket. Um..” she searched around for her cloak, finding it in a pile on the ground, amongst bloody rags and bandages. Before he could stop her, she tried, valiantly, to swing her legs over the side of the table to stand up. As soon as her feet met the ground, however, the rest of her did too. 

She crumbled onto the cold floor, air sucked through her teeth in a seeth of pain. 

“Hey, hey! Don’t get u-” too late. Mando watched her crawl towards the pile of cloth, determined to find her credits. “You’re not a hostage, calm down!” he tried, but she wasn’t paying him any mind. 

Fingers pushing apart the bloodied, dirty rags, she finally found the small leather pouch that contained the rest of her credits. She turned, eyes wide, thrusting her hand out towards him, offering up the money.

He reached out, and pushed her hand back towards her, and crouched down to her level. The Kid, who had been clinging to her, nuzzled deeper into the Beskar armor, scared of the woman’s hand. 

“Look, I don’t need your money right now. That’s not why you’re here, okay?” he stated slowly, waiting for a sign that she understood him. She gently nodded, eyes still wide with fear, but it was fading quickly, replaced with understanding.

“I’m injured, huh.” she remarked, bringing a hand up to push the fiery mess of hair out of her face. He cocked his head, as if to confirm. 

He stood up, giving her some space to stand as well, if she could manage. “You helped me, so I’m repaying the favor.”

She grabbed a hold of the table’s edge and pulled herself off of the ground, steadying herself by leaning on the tabletop. 

“I, uh, killed that guy, right?” she asked, solemnly. She didn’t need an answer, already knowing she did. “I’ve never killed someone before. That I know of, at least.” She shrugged, sniffing in dismissal. Sitting down on the table, she played with the credits in her hand. “Should I feel guilty? ‘Cause I’m not sure I do.”

He quirked an eyebrow at that, but said nothing. Not something you’d typically hear a Ghu’ul say, but there’s a first time for everything. Speaking of which…

“What’s a Ghu’ul doing so far from home?” 

She looked up suddenly, as if she had forgotten what she was. She cleared her throat awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck. 

“Well… That’s kinda a long story, and I don’t want to bore you with details.” she said earnestly. “I’m only half Ghu’ul, on my mother’s side. I don’t exactly… fit the mold, per se, yeah?” she asked, peering sheepishly up at him. He gave no response. She huffed, blowing hair out of her face. “And I wasn’t exactly keen on being a slave for the Terrats, so…” she shrugged.

‘“A slave for the Terrats”? That’s new.’ There was no slavery on Terraten last he heard, but no one ever really went over there anymore, so he wasn’t entirely suprised. He filed that away for some other time, it not being overly important at the moment.

“Since you’re awake, I need to know if I should bring you back to Sirilia or just take you somewhere else. You might still be in danger there.”

She recoiled in shock. “Wait, we’re not on Sirilia anymore?” she questioned, nerves immediately skyrocketing. 

“We’re on the third moon. I would have figured you’d have known already.” he crossed his arms, the Child squirming at the sudden movement. 

She looked dully at him. “And why would I?”

He opened his mouth to say ‘You can read my mind, can’t you’, but a sudden beeping stole his attention. He rushed over to the ladder leading up to the cockpit, leaving a flabbergasted Kiopa behind to stare up after him.

“What’s wrong?” she shouted over the sound, being only met with the sound of the doors closing behind him. She sighed, exasperated.

Mando sat down in the control seat, looking over the panel in front of him. A flashing red light alerted him to a low battery, advising him to shut the ship off soon. If he didn’t have a helmet on, he’d run his hand through his hair in stress. 

He heard a loud crashing down below, followed by even louder swearing.

He called out the door of the cockpit. “Forgot what I asked, we don’t have a choice. We’re going back to Sirilia.” he began to flick the switches on and start the engine. 

He paused. “Don’t try to climb the ladder!” he directed as an afterthought. A loud banging on the door startled him. It slid open, Kiopa falling face first onto the floor.

“Too late.” she muttered against the ground. Her knees throbbed, and her arms ached from pulling herself up. 

He grimaced under his helmet. This girl wasn’t going to be able to leave immediately, he realized. She might need a bit more help before she’d be able to walk without assistance. 

As she pulled herself into the chair next to him, the Razor Crest pulled off of the moon, and started heading back towards Sirilia. 

____

They spent a little bit of time refueling the ship and changing out the battery, using Kiopa’s remaining credits.

Mando had informed her that she wasn’t leaving until she could walk, and to find something to do until then, because it might be awhile. He left to go find a different job in a different small town, as he was absolutely not going back to where they came from. 

Meanwhile, Kiopa busied herself with messing with a broken blaster pistol she’d found on the floor of the Crest. When she’d asked what was wrong with it, Mando shrugged, saying it just stopped firing, and left it at that.

She’d taken it apart, assessing the damage that had been done to it. It was seemingly in perfectly fine condition, it just wasn’t working. Puzzled, she dug a bit deeper into the mechanisms inside.

While Mando was away, he’d left the Kid behind, under her supervision. She didn’t mind, not a stranger to watching children. 

The Kid, at first, was terrified of her, not wanting to get anywhere near her metal hand. She quickly caught on. 

“Look, how about I put gloves on, hm?” she pulled on a pair of brown leather gloves, concealing her hands. “See?” she said, offering it out cautiously to the Child. 

He looked at it warily, approaching slowly with a claw out. When their hands met, he was pleasantly surprised to find that nothing happened. She smiled warmly at him, and he waddled towards her to sit on her lap.

She adjusted her position to give him better access, and then, once he was comfortable, she continued working on the blaster. 

As the day continued on, she showed the Child all the different parts of the blaster, letting him hold them and possibly chew on them, depending on the piece. She was just figuring out the problem when Mando arrived back at the ship. 

She looked up excitedly, as the Kid shuffled off of her lap and over to the tall dark clothed figure. 

“Hey, Mando, I figured out what’s wrong with this blaster!” she piped up. “It’s the firing pin! See it’s stuck, look.” she explained, pulling a little metal piece back in the pistol.

The Mandalorian rushed forward. “Wait, don’t-”.  
A laser shot flew out of the barrel, pinging around the room before landing on the pile of rags on the floor, setting them ablaze. 

“Oops! Uh oh!” she exclaimed, throwing her cloak over the flames to extinguish them. The fire went out, smoke rising in the air with the smell of singed fibers. She turned her head to the Mandalorian, tight smile on her face, quietly laughing to ease the tension.

He was standing stiff, glaring down at her. 

Reaching down, he ripped the pistol from her hands. 

“Don’t. Do that. Again.” he ordered darkly, making his way over to the ladder to get to the cockpit. 

The Child stayed behind, watching him go, before turning and walking over to Kiopa, who was flushed with embarrassment. She looked down at the Kid.

“I swear, I didn’t know it was gonna do that…” she mumbled. The Kid only stared back at her, blinking owlishly. 

____

Kiopa was rudely awakened by the sound of beeping coming from overhead. It was shrill and nagging, accompanied by a flashing red light, demanding that she gets up and investigate the source.

The source, as it turned out, was a loose wire connecting to a smoke detector inside the ship’s cargo hold, meant for alerting the pilot if the cargo catches on fire. Fun! It’s beeping, however, wasn’t. 

She pried back the panel where the wire was hidden, pushing apart insulation and remnants of hasty repairs to find the wire connection.

Just as she was finding the connecting end, she heard a voice behind her. 

“What do you think you’re doing to my ship?” it asked. Kiopa turned around, facing the owner of the voice, the Mandalorian, who, based on body language, didn’t seem too happy to see her messing with things. 

“Fixing your smoke alarm, what does it look like.” she replied sardonically. She shoved the wire back into place, picking up a small soldering tool that had been laying on the floor next to her table bed, and soldering it in place. 

As she did, the loud, obnoxious beeping sound and bright flashing light ceased, and she flopped back onto the table. 

“You’re welcome.” she muttered sleepily, before knocking out. 

The Mandalorian stood there, watching her as she drifted back to sleep, walking over to the still open panel. He gazed inside at the wiring, noticing a lot of loose pieces, some not even attached to anything anymore, remnant of the Jawas stealing his ships parts and having to put it back together. 

He then looked to the newly repaired smoke alarm. 

‘Hmmm…’ he thought, closing the panel. He turned around and walked back over to the ladder, pausing to look one more time at Kiopa, who snoozed soundlessly.

‘She might actually be useful.’

With that, he ascended the ladder back to the cockpit, a new thought in his mind. 

‘I COULD really use a mechanic.’


	3. A Long Time Ago

Kiopa had been absolutely floored when he’d asked the question. The perplexity on her face must have been plain to see, because he’d uncrossed his arms and loudly cleared his throat, tilting his head at her, waiting for an answer. 

She floundered for a second before regaining her composure. 

“Uhh… Sure? I mean, are you sure? I’m absolutely positive you could find a better mechanic in town than me, Mando.” she sputtered, looking sideways. When he didn’t speak, she gulped. “Not to say that I won’t, I’d be happy to! I wasn’t exactly planning on staying on Sirilia forever, anyway.” she mentioned, waving a hand. “It’s just that, um, of all people, why me?” she stared, words punctuated with a strong sense of confusion.

He didn’t miss a beat. “Convenience.”

“Oh.” was all she said, before turning around and grabbing the Kid, who was tugging at her pant leg. “I guess you’ll also have a live-in babysitter then too, so it’s a two-for-one, huh?” she smiled, letting the Child play with her gloved fingers. 

He only hummed in response, turning away back to the exit of the ship.

“I’m going to get supplies, then we’ll leave. If you want to pick up any of your belongings, I’d suggest you come with and do it now. We probably won’t be coming back.” he walked out of the door, pausing to turn around when he felt a small clawed hand grab at his shoulder. The Kid was being passed to him. 

Kiopa gave him a toothy grin. “Better not bring him with me. My old roommates might try to steal him. He’s too cute for his own good.” she waved at the kid, smile meeting her eyes and lighting up her face. She looked back up at Mando. “I’ll meet you back here, yeah?” she offered. A short nod from him, and she was off. 

In truth, she wanted to be alone when she said goodbye to her temporary home. Sure, it was a hostel, and people came and went all the time from it, but it had been one of the only constants in her life for the past 2 years. 

It felt like only yesterday she came here, to Sirilia, completely by chance.

As she boarded onto a small transporting hover cart, she closed her eyes, remembering. She’d been with her last crew for a while now, and she planned to be with them for a lot longer. They’d been her family ever since she’d left Terratin, and she’d been tremendously grateful for all they’d done for her. 

She sat in the cockpit on the ship, which was a medium sized cruiser, significantly bigger than the Razor Crest, but not nearly as big as a standard star-destroyer. It was more of a luxury-class ship than anything, and it showed by how poor its hyperdrive system was. She recalled long, week long flights between planets, and needing to stop for refueling, annoying her and her crewmates. 

“Why don’t we just upgrade the drive?” she’d always complain. And the captain, a large, tan-faced Zabrak named Kano, would huff and concede that they would! Honest! Next time they get paid. And everyone would be happy with that answer, knowing full well that it was never going to happen. 

Maybe if they had, they wouldn’t have gotten caught up in someone else’s battle. 

Just there, in front of them, there were two ships, locked in combat with each other. Neither could care less about the cruiser than was entering their space, and both held little regard for the safety of those onboard. 

Kiopa looked out at them, eyes bouncing back and forth between both ships, as they traded fire. The light from their laser cannons danced across her face, illuminating her wonder filled eyes. 

“I have a bad feeling about this…” said the man next to her. She turned to look at him. 

He was human, with shorter, dark hair. His eyes were dark with bags underneath them. His brows were knit together in concern, and he looked up into her face. His eyes met hers, and he leaned up to plant a kiss on her cheek. 

“I’m going to go get Kim,” he stated, rising to his feet and heading for the door. “She and Ninan would be safer if they were here with us, don’t you think?” he explained, marching quickly out the door. Kiopa looked on after him, sighing nervously.

“Everything’s going to be fine!” boomed a voice on the other side of her. Kano clapped her on the back, shoving her forward in her seat. “That boys just paranoid, you know how he is.” he chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning back. “For now, let just stay here and watch the fireworks, ‘kay, Kiopa?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but was abruptly slammed out of her seat and onto the floor by a violent shaking in the ship. Kano shook in his seat, too heavy to fall out.

“What in the world was that?” he wondered aloud, looking out at the two ships. The entire ship trembled again, jostling the two. 

Suddenly, a bright red flashing light filled the cockpit, followed by a blaring alarm, jumpstarting Kiopa into action. She bolted up from her seat on the ground and rushed over to the screen monitoring the ship’s condition. It showed that two engines had been damaged.

“What the hell?!” she shouted, clicking a few buttons on the panel in front of her. The screen flickered and settled on a view of the back of the ship, where she could see another cruiser, readying a cannon in their direction.

“Someone’s shooting at us!” she yelled to Kano, who was busy pressing buttons near the steering controls. 

“Yeah, I figured! But why?” he shouted back, flipping switches desperately. 

Kiopa looked over at him, heart racing, blood pounding in her ears.

“Damnit, we’re going to get blown away if we don’t get out of here.” Kano muttered under his breath, wiping a hand across his brow. 

“I need to go find out where Javi, Kim, and Ninan are. I’ll be right back.” she pushed away from the monitor, jogging to the door exiting the cockpit. 

She looked down the hall in front of her, no sign of anyone anywhere. Taking off running, she called out to anyone. 

“Javi, I swear to god, where are you?!” she yelled, desperation building in her voice. There was no response. 

A growl of frustration and anxiety erupted from her throat, and she called out again. A tremor in the ship cut her off, knocking her to the ground. The sound of the alarm was drowned out by the sound of metal being crushed, scrunched up, and launched away. Panic flooded her chest. She quickened her pace, heading to where the man, Javi, had been heading.

She sprinted towards the source of the sound, feet pounding against the floor, another, smaller tremor shaking her. She reached Kim’s room, grabbing the door handle, pulling. But the door wouldn’t budge, having been sealed shut. She panted, biting her lip, and then finally screaming out as she tried in vain to rip the door open.

Her fists met the door, pounding on the metal until her flesh hand was busted and blue.

Kiopa sank down onto the floor, tears clouding her vision. She pressed her ear against the door, hoping to hear something, a voice, screams, anything. But she heard nothing. Just the cold, dead, silence of space. A sob wracked through her, and she buried her head in her arms. 

She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there when a hand grabbed onto her arm, ripping her up from the floor and dragging her quickly down the hall. She couldn’t look up to see who it was, head spinning from reality setting in. Another wave of tremors hit the ship, flipping her stomach upside down. Her feet stumbled and tripped over themselves as she was pulled wordlessly through the ship’s corridors. If the person pulling her was speaking, she wasn’t hearing it, only the sounds of blood rushing in her ears and her own heart pounding registering in her mind. 

A second hand grabbed her other upper arm, shaking her. She looked down, eyes not meeting that of her companion. The hands left her arms, briefly, before surging forward and grabbing her face. They pulled her face up, forcing her to look into the face of Javi. 

His eyes, before filled with mild concern and unease, were flooded with panic and mania. His mouth was moving, but it no words seemed to come out. Her ears rang, everything around her slowing down. She blinked up at him, fat, hot tears spilling down her face. 

The ringing in her ears faded. 

“-need to see if Kim and Ninan are still alive here somewhere. Are you listening to me, Kiopa?” the hands shook her face and she shivered, light seeming to come back to her eyes. 

“You have to get off the ship. I’m not having you go with me to see if Kim and Ninan are still here, okay?” Javi swallowed thickly, smoothing the hair that was plastered to her face with sweat and tears. She nodded vacantly, and he returned the expression with a heartbreaking, withering smile. 

“I love you.” he spoke with finality, before shoving her into an open door just behind her. 

She stumbled backwards and landed on her back, painfully smashing her head on the floor. Sharp, knife-like jabs travel down her neck from her head, clouding her vision momentarily with black spots. 

When she finally looked up, the door had just slid closed with a hiss, and the flashing red light in the room turned off. She looked through the glass door, breathing heavily. 

Javi put a hand up to the glass. Kiopa raised her hand to meet his.

Then, she was launched.

The sudden movement of the room made her stomach drop. A gripping fear held her heart, as she searched the room with her eyes, for any clues of what in the hell just happened.

In her panic and fear and grief, she hadn’t noticed that he’d been dragging her to the emergency escape pod bay.

A scream ripped through her, shaking her to her core. She pounded on the glass door, fists already aching from the bruises she’d gotten earlier.  
In horror and slow motion, she watched as her ship, her home, the home of her family and loved ones, was fired on. Shot after shot, chunks of metal debris ripping off and flying away into the void. Flames engulfed the vessel.

Her eyes blurred, the vision of the explosion fading from view as her eyes focused on her reflection in the glass. 

She was disheveled, usual blue-ish skin purple from crying, eyes wet and red. She reached a shaky hand up to her face, her palm gently resting on a bloody, smeared handprint on her cheek. 

Javi’s blood.

She felt sick. So sick. 

After a few minutes, the dread and terror faded into uncomfortable numbness. The panic and dismay had long since subsided, and she stared blankly forward, into the inky blackness of space. 

For the first time in a very long time, she felt completely and utterly alone. 

She fell into a restless, dreamless sleep. 

When she opened her eyes again, she was startled. Looking around, she saw a building, one that was achingly familiar. A hand shoved into her peripheral, shaking her from her daze.

The hand was attached to a man, who looked at her expectantly. 

She gave him a tight lipped smile and dropped a credit onto his palm, before exiting the cart. She heard him grumble behind her, and take off into the busy street. 

“Right,” she muttered to herself. “I have to get my stuff.”

She squared her shoulders resolutely, and marched off into the hostel she once called home.

____

The Mandalorian leaned against the side of his ship, staring off at the two orange suns, dipping beyond the horizon. If he had a watch, he’d glance impatiently at it. 

The Child cooed, looking up at him. The Mandalorian looked down at the Kid, bouncing him slightly. 

“She’s taking too long, Ad’ika.” Mando huffed, switching the Kid to his other arm, ignoring his small sounds of protest.

“Maybe this was a mistake…” he wondered aloud.

Just as he was about to turn tail and leave in his ship without her, a slender, cloaked figure emerged from beyond the hill, waving excitedly in his direction.

As she yelled something about having brought her own tools because ‘his were awful and weren’t good enough’, he felt his lips quirk into a slight smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dude I was so jazzed to finally write down part of her backstory. I was listening to Komm, süßer Tod while I came up with the scene. If you haven't heard it, you can go listen to it to get the feel. It's from The End of Evangelion movie lol. Leave a comment or something to let me know if I should write more or not!

**Author's Note:**

> As always, let me know what you think! I'm hungry and comments are the only thing on the menu.


End file.
